


The Krusty Nut

by tinkywarhinky



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M, strip club au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkywarhinky/pseuds/tinkywarhinky
Summary: The downhill spiral of a lad looking for a job. We all have dreams growing up and this star—er sponge dreams of being a chef.A dingy joint like this may not be the best place to start, but we all start somewhere. We make mistakes and do things we'll regret, things that will send you to the floor of Rock Bottom, eventually though, we all float back up.





	1. Prologue

There once was a strip club under the sea, named The Krusty Nut.

  
Oh, you don’t know what The Krusty Nut is? Well, if you asked, people would mockingly say _‘I can’t hear you’_.  
The Krusty Nut is the dirtiest, sleaziest strip club in the bikini bottom, some even say that it gave the town crabs.

_Literally._

It was run by Krabs, _Eugene_ Krabs. He was, the dirtiest sleaziest man in the town, which was only fitting. But boy, was anyone lucky to get grabbed by those big meaty claws, and one can only say from experience, if you catch my drift. To be in his grasp was not the greatest experience, but Krabs is a cheapskate, but never with his catch of the night. When you’re on the cash filled mattress of Eugene Krabs, that’s when you really know you’re employee of the month.

I don’t think I could ever look the man in the eyes again, I may look young for a 31 year old sponge, but that place took years off me. Dancing and serving in more ways than one, all cause I couldn’t get a job at the Salty Splatoon.

Instead I was greasing poles at the krusty nut, and in the start, I will admit I was always happy to go to work. _"I’m ready, I'm ready"_ , my endless mantra; I was always ready.

I tried to get my friend Patrick a job but they only ever want the pretty ones, not that I’m a looker ( though at the time, I thought so) , but Patrick is like a sloppy sea-bear cub, and it wasn’t “that kind of bar”.

I was such a mess, I’d believe anybody who told me I was pretty. Walking around, sometimes in these squeaky boots and a ridiculous hat, asking if I was a “pretty girl”.  
You’re probably wondering, if it was such a good life, and oh it was, why did I leave? What got so bad? Why not stay Eugene’s Money Mattress Maid? Well, the real question should be, why would I?

It all started when I was oh so desperate, no where to turn, Eugene was the first to hire me. He'd hire nearly anybody. Nearly. He called me his star, I called him Captain. I was so dumb to think I was special to him.

Cheapy the motherfucking cheap-skate he was.

It was dirty, so dirty, but something had to pay the bills in my tacky pineapple house and feed my ungrateful snail. It was my secret, I didn't tell anybody my job but they'd find out. Whether it was through Patrick's big fat mouth or worse circumstances. I was young and dumb and full of scum, all Krabs saw in me was a ride, a wild ride into a world I wasn't ready for.

But you know me.

I'm ready.

I'm _always_ ready.


	2. Take Me By The Hand,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> o c e a n m a n t a k e m e b y t h e h a n d

It's a dead end town with people who put smiles on their faces despite the fact, they all knew it yet let themselves be blissfully dragged by the waves of their shit-show economy without a fight. Even if you can breath under water, it hurts to be dragged down in a struggle, it hurts to drown.

Me and Patrick were broke as jokes and liked to go out together as pals and go to all the clubs in the deepest parts of Bikini Bottom. We always joked that we were so broke; living paycheck to paycheck, that we might as well have just become the dancers, the chum bucket sleazes that worked at these clubs.

The jokes became nearer and nearer to to mt heart, I had to feed his snail, I had to pay all my bills. Flipping burgers couldn't do it forever, and it wouldn't, and little did I realize that that would all change after I stepped into this crab-trap.

It was my first night, my first dance, the music is blaring loud and dancers just like me are everywhere, on poles and some talking to frequenters of the bar and just relaxing. Old man Krabs said I couldn't slack off like them but the idea of actually going through with this was killing me. My usually respectable shorts and tie traded for a bright blue thong.

_Ocean man, take me by the hand.._

A tar thick remix of Ween was playing, it was slow and nauseating, the grain of the music like pixels in a gross meme. After taking sip after sip of liquid courage, the room was spinning. In the midst of my anxiety I managed and was twirling myself around a pole while lazily singing along. I twisted my hips and dropped to my knees, and people would touch me to slide dubloons into my "pockets". Every time their hands lingered and slid I'd squeeze my eyes shut, someone laughed and joked , "he's a shy one" and I wanted to throw up but managed to stand and twist myself around the safety blanket I'd made out of the pole and attempted to shake it off by doing some more tricks.

The voyage to the corner of the globe may have been a real trip but I was tripping harder. 

I really was. 

Very much so.

I was sent to the floor with a slap after climbing and spinning to pole too much in a tipsy haze only to be dragged of by my coworker and left in the bar.

I'm sitting next to my boss and I can't make eye contact, if I were try to focus on anything I'd find myself wanting to vomit so I let me eyes wander the crowd of people, legs moving and asses shaking like myself. Wracked with anxiety and my stomach like the rest of my body, a sponge full of booze. The sticky remix is nearing it's end and for a split second I realize Mr. Krabs is trying to talk to me, I must've looked like a corpse.

 

_Ocean man, take me by the hand,_

_lead me to the land, that you understand_

_Ocean man, the sequence of a lifeform_

_braised in the sand, soaking up the_

_thirst of the land, Ocean man_

 

It feels like it takes me that whole ending to meet Mr.Krabs eyes, my own personal ocean man who, while did not take me but the had had his claws wrapped around my wrist as he shook me and asked if I was ok.

I responded telling him something along the lines of a slurred "euuugene, 'm braisin' t' soak up that dick"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you;re still reading : ))  
> Updates will be as slow as they are painful  
> I'm dragging this out by trying to make this the most enjoyable piece of shit to read  
> like the movie Napoleon Dynamite or somethign


	3. Sleaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick slut shames

I woke up the next day not remembering whatever had happened after that night. I was home but not in bed, something hurt but not my head, my throat ached and I didn't want to think about it. There was a clanking sound and in my daze of trying to figure out what happened it terrorized me

_clank clank clank_

What did I do, how'd I get home?

_clank clank_

Where was that fucking noise coming from I swear on Neptune have mercy on me.

The clanking subsided for a moment. I thought and glanced at my armchair and brought myself to stand, my adorable snail purring at my feet. There was a note that read

 

_Me boy I brought you home cause I had to run some errands and couldn't have ye passed out in mine, - Krabs_

 

I knew what had happened but refused to recollect too much of it, I didn't much have a choice as the damned clanking returned to reap it's vengeance on me as though even the pounding sound knew how ashamed I was. An idiot I was, I realized it was the door and the banging was accompanied by a very familiar voice. "Spongebooooob!!" Patrick called,  "You're usually up by now and I wanted to make sure you weren't dead and now K\I'm pretty convinced you might be!"

I stumble around to make sure I'm decent, I wrap myself in a blanket when I realized the answer was  _hell no I'm not decent_ and I make my way to the door and swing it open right when it seemed Patrick was ready to start frantically knocking again.

 

"Hey Pat," I said, voice raspy from the unspeakable night 

"You look like shit"

"and sound like it too."

"What did you do last night?"

"I don't remember" I said, thought the real answer was that I didn't  _want_ to.

 

Patrick's face conveyed a lot of emotions so I had to recover quickly "I mean, it was a lot, nothing bad just" His skepticism didn't fade " a lot"

"You're a bigger mess than me Squarepants, so what did you do"

"I got a job, and even if I am a mess why is it your problem" agitated and that headache finally setting in, I span on my heel to go into the kitchen leaving the door open in a way to silently invite Patrick in as I usually did.

 

"I mean, give me some credit what else are friends for, sorry I worry." Patrick sighed "where d'you work now?" he asked as he sat on my kitchen counter and ate my Kelpo.

"Ah, " pausing as I searched my fridge "you know that club we went to?"

"No  _way_ Spongebob" Patrick looks up and said, a mouth full of cereal. 

"What? it's not so bad and bills need to be paid."

"Most people think you're more of a prude but I guess you're a natural sleaze and no body can tell" Patrick laughed through mouthfuls 

"Fuck you, I'm not a sleaze, eveybody in Bikini Bottom has a skeleton in their closet"

"Yeah but you've got a crabs carapace in your's"

" _Fuck you"_

 _"_ Giving yourself away so easily"

It was true, I didn't have to respond like that, I could've lied, Patrick may seem like an idiot but he can read people, a smart moron what luck. And in  on sentence got me to basically admit to fucking Krabs, what a fucking dick.

"You fucking Alaskan Bull Worm"

"Dry _slut_ "

"Asshole"

"Sleaze"

" _Bottom feeder!"_

"Yellow!"

"Pink!"

This argument was pointless, it was dumb, it was just calling each other names, some names had hurt more than others but we couldn't admit to which ones and in the end we ended up laughing in my kitchen and I slid down to the floor in front of my fridge.

 

_"euuugene, 'm braisin' t' soak up that dick"_

_"y'know sponges have a lo-haha- a lot of holes eugene"_

_"i'm ok, yeah it's fine sir"_

 

God, I was a sleaze.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyye i churned out another oen


	4. Show Me Them Pickles

I hung out with Patrick for a while after that till I got too tired and the blue skies of Bikini Bottom faded, he left me to rest till I inevitably had to head back out to work.

 

I arrive at work and get drunk while I'm still hungover like I was adding layers to the sickness, eventually they would blur together till I woke up still buzzed some days and I couldn't tell the difference anymore. But that's getting ahead of myself. At the time I was careless and drank and drank, any prudish nature and modesty I had on my first night fade as I walked around the club in nothing but a silly hat and squeaky boots. 

I went around asking people if I was a pretty girl, Krabs had said yes but disappeared to do an errand that I'd forgotten, this iws if he'd even told me what it was, I forgot that too. 

I was dancing and I didn't care who's hands were on me, they were all one in the same. I needed money so what did it matter, people couldn't really put it anywhere and some would jokingly slide it all over my ass but I'd just take the cash and stash it in my boots.

Someone was being particularly grabby, not that I noticed at first. The hands blended together, I was an object but I might as well have had fun as one so they melted together like one endless money machine fueled by fun and pleasure.

 

I eventually turned to see why the one feeling of endless groping seemed to falter and become truly one, it was a large dude, a fucking fat dude in fact. 

" Hey there" he said gyrating the the fuzzy beat of whatever synth blend was bleating. 

"Hi" I responded not knowing what to say, which was new to Drunk Spongebob.

"Why so  _shy_ all the'sudden?" he asked and I shrugged, he kept talking but I tried to drone it out and nodding to whatever seemed like a pointless question till he grabbed me by my wrist and dragging me the what Squidward told me were the 'private rooms'. I agreed to something without thinking but I couldn't really bail then. 

 

Trying to sound nonchalant I asked what his name was and he told me he was called Bubble-bass and flirtatiously I said I'd just call him BB.

BB was an intimidating guy, the kind of asshole who doesn't think racism isn't still a problem is misogynistic and acts like despite his feelings of superiority he's still a "nice guy", basically a scary neck-beard.

He paid me to give him a dance and I did, it was barely in tune to any music but I tried as hard as I could to be smooth along with whatever trash was blaring so loud at the time, yay for an intense migraine when I woke up later.

BB get's handsy which is aloud but not for the fact that he'd only paid me for a dance and nothing more, I try to bring up this point in a way that won't get me to see a scarier side of him by just sliding his hands away gently and saying "I'm not that cheap"

"well you sure look like it" he said seemingly pissed.

" _Excuse me???"_ I asked climbing off of him

"Well you walk around in those thigh high boots and nothing else" He says grabbing me and I 

lose

my 

shit

I start shouting and hyperventilating, filter feeding harder than my ancestors, and ranout the room into somebody and almost screamed at them toi till I realized it was just Larry the lobster. "Bobby uh you ok?? WHat happened?" 

"There's a perv whodoesnt wanna pay me for stuff but I don't want to anyway n'm'scared-"

Larry takes it in his own hands and kicks the dude out while I throw up in the bathroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i found my privilege under bubble basses tongue : //  
> (thnx 4 the love yall <333)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I hope you enjoyed nonetheless : )


End file.
